Learning Under Pressure
by ncis.is.the.best
Summary: Tony and Ziva get caught in a pretty kick-ass shootout and only just make it out alive. Then Tony manages to crash the getaway car. In middle of butt-no-where. Yeah, good luck getting out of this one, Very Special Agents. TIVA.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own NCIS.

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Ziva shouted, but Tony didn't really hear what she said. His gun was drawn, and so was hers. They were running, running away from the gunfire, the enemy, the stench of burnt corpse. Just running.

There was a shot, and it whizzed so close to his head that he felt a whoosh of air as the bullet flew past. In that second, he knew they were very screwed. He swung his head around and saw Ziva running just ahead of him. Further up, was their car.

Oh thank god for small mercies, he thought.

"Ziva!" he yelled, firing his weapon behind him blindly a few times, in an attempt to keep the enemy fire at bay. Thus far, this tactic was proving unsuccessful. "Get to the car!"

He knew that he'd heard her because she suddenly changed her route and reached into her pocket, presumedly for the keys. She withdrew her hand a second later and aimed it at the car, still sprinting at full speed. She had just managed to hit the 'open' button when she took a bullet to the thigh.

He heard a shout of "Fuck!" as she fell to the ground, dropping her weapon. His stomach dropped.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Situation not looking real good.

In a few seconds he'd caught up to her and dropped to her side.

"Can you walk?" He was alarmed by the amount of blood pouring from the would, but somehow managed to keep his cool.

She clenched her teeth in pain, but nodded, pushing herself up. Her leg immediately buckled. Three more shots went off. They were getting closer. Tony clenched his fists.

"Grab your gun!" he said.

She picked it up from where it had fallen. Almost immediately, he scooped her up and continued running. She opened her mouth to protest, but he got there first.

"This is not the time for you to bitch and moan about me helping you, David, nor is this meant as any kind off offense to your ninja skills," he said, drawing ragged breaths. "I want to get out of this alive and there is no way in hell I'm leaving you behind."

They reached the car and Tony yanked open the passenger door, thankful that Ziva had managed to get the car open before she'd taken the bullet. He pushed her in roughly and slammed the door, aware that she was in pain, but only concentrating on getting them the hell out of there.

"Get down low!" he shouted to her, running around the back of the car and shooting at the men advancing on them. He caught one of the attackers in the chest and, taking advantage of their surprise, ran to the driver's door and got in. Without wasting a second, he reversed, burning rubber. He pushed Ziva's head down.

"I said, get the hell down, David!" he muttered, just as the windscreen took a bullet and shattered.

Fuck, he thought, turning the wheel and pumping the gas. The car shot forward, and they were away. He didn't let up on the accelerator until they were well out of the district. Finally, he slowed and looked over to Ziva. Her eyes were closed and her head was tilted back, her face covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He dropped his eyes to her leg. Her hands were plugging the wound, but not very well- she was losing blood at an alarming rate.

"Okay, Zee," he said. "Don't worry a bit. We're going to get to a hospital and you're going to be-"

With all his babbling, Tony hadn't realized that he had not been watching the road. Suddenly, the car impacted with a tree with tremendous force, the car split with an ear-shattering screech, and whatever Tony was saying was forgotten.

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A/N: So.. shall I continue? Give me your two cents. Tell me your favourite lines. How much did it suck? What's the weather like? Write me a poem.

Review. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: For the millionth time, no!

New chapter :)

Thank you so much for all your reviews! They make my day and motivate me to keep writing

Okay, now, anyone who doesn't want an awesome as TIVA spoiler look away now. For all who do, get excited!

_**SPOILER: **_

**Question: The latest we've heard about Tony and Ziva on NCIS is Shane Brennan stating that their relationship will remain status quo. Please tell me they're not ending Tiva? —Jamie**

_Ausiello: Strange. That seems to contradict what I'm hearing. According to my hairy NCIS mole, the Jan. 26 episode finds Tony and Ziva hopping a plane to the City of Love. That's right, Tiva takes on Paris! And would you believe the hotel screws up their reservation and they end up sharing a room together? What are the odds?!_

I don't think I need to tell you how totally excited I am! Bring on January 26! :D :D :D Yay TIVA! Now, onto the story.

As always, enjoy. :)

* * *

"Tony?"

She was alarmed. This was the first thing that struck him from his semi-conscious state. Not the words, but the tone. Ziva David was most definitely panicked. At least a little. And that was somewhat worrying. Ziva didn't panic.

He felt the pressure of two fingers on his neck.

"Tony?"

It was a bit louder this time, and right next to his ear. He could feel her hot breath on his exposed skin.

"Tony!" she finally shouted.

"Ughhh," he moaned and slowly cracked open one eye. The light hurt so he closed it again and spoke quietly, "What the hell happened?"

"What happened?" she asked rhetorically, and now he could not only hear the panic in her voice, but also the anger. A bright red warning sign flashed in his mind.

Step back, Tony, it warned. A pissed Ziva is never a safe Ziva.

"What happened?!" she said again.

Tony opted for silence.

"What happened, Tony, is that you crashed our car in the middle of nowhere and we have no way of getting out of here!" She paused for effect. "Oh, and yeah, we just came from one massive-ass shootout so Gibbs and the others will probably assume we are dead."

And then it all came back to him. Shooting, Running, Ziva...

With a renewed sense of panic, he tried to push up, but found that something was holding him back. He finally opened his eyes and saw Ziva hovering over him, her hand on his chest.

"I wouldn't recommend trying to get up," she said, dead serious. "If you injuries don't kill you, I will."

"Ziva!" he said urgently, ignoring her threat and pushing up anyway. She pushed him back down. "Your leg..."

Her eyes dropped to her thigh momentarily, which was out of his sight, then flicked back up to Tony. "It is fine," she said.

"You were shot!" Tony persisted. "How in hell can it be fine?"

She waved her hand, and Tony noticed it was covered in blood.

"Ziva..." he said again, his eyes unconsciously following her conspicuously crimson hand.

"_Tony..._" she mocked, her hand still firmly on his chest, holding him back in the seat.

Damn, she's strong, he thought.

He looked her in the face then, and for the first time realized how sickly she looked. Her usually flawless tan skin was now pale and sweaty, and her hair was slick with a mixture of sweat and blood.

"Ziva, your leg," he said again.

Sighing, she removed her hand from his chest and pulled herself up slightly so he could see.

He felt sick. Not because of what he could see, but because of what he couldn't see. Her entire thigh was covered in blood. Thankfully, though, it seemed to have stopped flowing for now.

"It is really fine," she said, her voice cutting into his thoughts. "I have checked it." She pulled the material of her pants to one side and he could see that she had sliced the pant leg up the seam with her knife. If the situation weren't so damn life threatening he would probably have made some obscene comment about her tearing her clothes off for him.

"It looked worse than it was. It wasn't through and through," she said. "It was just a glancing shot. Hit the side of my leg. Bled a lot, but I'll be fine."

Tony inspected the wound for a moment longer, ensuring that what she had said was actually correct, and then turned away, apparently satisfied that for now, at least, she wasn't dying.

She let the pant leg fall back over the wound and put her hand back onto Tony's chest.

"_Why_ are you doing that?" he asked tiredly.

She sucked in a breath, but didn't remove her hand. "You probably can't feel it, because you are in shock-"

He cut in, indignant. "I am not in shock!"

She ignored him and continued, "Which is a physiological response to trauma, and there is so much adrenalin coursing through your veins that you are unable to really feel the full extent of your injuries yet."

"Injuries?" he asked. "I'm fine. I don't have any-"

"The car hit the tree mainly on your side," she continued, all clinical, as if giving a sit-rep, "so I escaped relatively unharmed."

"Relatively?"

"Cuts and bruises," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

"Yeah, and that bullet wound," he pointed out.

"Glancing wound," she corrected. "And that I had before you went and crashed our car."

"I didn't-"

"As I was saying," she said, raising her voice to cover his protests, "I am _fine_." She said the last word pointedly.

"Ziva," Tony cut in again. "You could be lying in a ditch somewhere, blind, with no arms and no legs, and still say you were _fine_. That word had lost its meaning completely."

She huffed. "Shut up and let me finish!"

He clamped his mouth shut deliberately in a mocking fashion, and opened his eyes very wide to show he was paying attention.

She rolled her eyes. "Child," she muttered under her breath.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she held her finger up.

"Shut it!"

He obeyed sullenly.

"Now, Tony," she said. "I want you to keep very still, okay, because if you move, I promise you your body is going to register some of that lovely pain that the _shock_-" she said 'shock' pointedly, "-is currently preventing you from feeling."

"Ziva," he said, suddenly serious. "What the hell is wrong with me? Is it life-threatening?"

Ziva shook her head. "No..." she said. "More, just, painful." Her eyes flicked down and to the right, where his arm was. "And disgusting."

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Nothing," she said. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"You have already shown you can move your neck, so I am going to say that is not broken. If you can, without moving the rest of your body, I want you to look down at your right arm."

Very slowly, dreading what he might see, he did.

"Holy shit!" he began, his eyes wide. "How the hell am I not feeling that?"

"I told you-"

"Yeah, yeah, shock, blah, blah, adrenalin, etcetera, etcetera..." he said quickly, mashing some of the words together, his eyes never leaving his arm.

It was just below his elbow. In the accident, his elbow had smashed against the side of the car with such force that the two bones in his forearm had snapped. When they snapped, his elbow had still been pushing against the car door, and as a result, the two snapped ends of the bones had broken through his skin.

"That is really very gross," he continued. "Bones should definitely stay inside the body." He attempted a weak smile.

"You are joking at a time like this?" Ziva said in disbelief.

"No time like the present."

She shook her head. "I do not understand you."

"Not many do," he said. "I'm just cool like that."

"I have another word for it."

He ignored her quip. "So what are we going to do about this?" he asked, gesturing with his head to his arm. Then he looked down at her hand, which was still on his chest. He cleared his throat. "Uh, you can probably remove that now," he said. "I'm in no immediate hurry to go anywhere."

She followed his eyes to her hand. "Oh," she said, mildly awkward. "Right, sorry." She pulled her hand away and settled back in her seat.

"Don't apologize," he said automatically. "Sign of-"

"Weakness, I know," she finished.

There was a moment of silence.

Then, "So?" Tony said. "What's the plan?"

She steeled her features and took a breath. "If your arm stays like that for too much longer you will definitely start to feel it and..." she trailed off.

"What?" he asked, confused.

She breathed out and cringed slightly. "You run the risk of losing it."

"My arm?!" he yelped. "No! I _need_ my arm!"

"Tony, I know," she said. "That's why I hope you won't hate me for what I need to do next."

He stared at her. "Ziva," he said cautiously; slowly and deliberately. "What are you planning?"

"We have some pretty strong painkillers in our first aid kit…" she continued. "But," she hesitated, "it is still going to hurt, Tony. A lot."

"Ziva," he said again. "What are you talking about?"

"I have done it before. Once, in Mossad. The guy had fallen during a training exercise in the woods and the only help was hours away-"

"Ziva! You're rambling."

"Right," she said, wringing her hands. Then she leant over the back of the car, ignoring the immense pain in her body, and grabbed the first aid kit in the back seat. She wouldn't let on, but she'd been in a lot of pain since the accident. More than she knew was acceptable from her injuries. Nevertheless, Tony was the main concern at present.

"You know I can see your ass right now," Tony said, drawing her from her thoughts.

She smirked, despite their situation. "Good," she said, grabbing the kit and taking her seat once again. "Think about that while I do this."

"Yeah, about that," Tony said. "What is it you're doing again?"

She rummaged through the first aid kit. The supplies were the bare minimum. Figures, she thought and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. She put two in his left hand.

"Take these."

He just stared at the pills. "How many do we have of these, Ziva?" he said slowly.

"Does it matter?"

He pushed them back to her. "I can't take these," he said. "I'm not even in that much pain," he lied. "You take them."

"I am fine!"

"Liar," he said. "I saw you cringe when you grabbed the kit."

She rubbed her face tiredly. "Tony," she said in a measured tone. "It is my intention to manipulate your arm and snap it back into place. It will be incredibly painful, but it is necessary if you wish to keep your arm. I strongly suggest you take the pills."

The blood drained from his face. "Oh god…" he said softly, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. Still, he didn't take the pills. "If that's what you're going to do then these wont help at all. We might as well save them."

Ziva glared at him and took the pills from him hand. Then, before he could react, she pulled his jaw open and shoved them in his mouth, holding it shut until he swallowed.

She let go and he spluttered. "You just wasted two perfectly good pain pills!"

"Not a waste," she said simply.

He wanted to disagree with her, but the pills were already taking effect. Despite himself, he welcomed a little relief.

"Ready?" Ziva asked, suddenly very nervous.

Tony swallowed and nodded.

She took a breath. "Okay," she said, looking around. "Grab the bottom of the chair with your left hand. Grip as tightly as you can."

He obeyed.

"Now," she said, and after a moment of contemplation, pulled her sweater over her head, leaving her in only a tank top.

"I get a show too?" Tony said, a weak attempt at humour.

Ziva folded the sweater. "Perhaps later if you're lucky," she said, humoring him.

Tony grinned slightly, but it faded.

"Okay," Ziva said. "Bite down on this." She held out her sweater.

He eyed the dirty, sweaty garment. "I'd rather not."

"Tony," she sighed. "Stop being argumentative."

"I like being argumentative." He was stalling. They both knew it. He looked at her and sighed. "Okay," he said, and she put it in his mouth.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she said absently, examining his arm.

He spat out the sweater. "What?"

She shoved it back in, annoyed. "Gag you," she said.

He glared at her.

"Okay," she said shakily. "Ready?"

He nodded.

She took a breath. "I'm sorry for this," she said, taking hold of his arm.

Then she jerked her arm violently and his made a sickening crack that she would never get out of her head.

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think? Good, bad, so-so? Comments, queries, suggestions, criticism?

Favourite lines?

Review :D


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own NCIS.

* * *

He opened his eyes slowly, acutely aware of two things. One, his arm was _killing_ him, and two, Ziva was hovering over him in an extremely awkward position. He was sitting in the front seat of the car, his arm lying beside him. Apparently Ziva hadn't been able to work on it easily enough from the other seat so she'd taken it upon herself to straddle him as she worked. For a few moments he watched as she began to bandage his arm using the supplies from the first aid kit. She was very methodical, purposeful. It was clear she had done this before.

He cleared his throat. "You know I usually make a point of buying a girl a drink before we get into this position."

"Liar," she said immediately, completely deadpan, surprising him. Then she looked up from what she was doing and smiled slightly. "You are awake." She cocked her head to one side. "Pity. I think I like you better when you cannot talk. Or move."

"Hey!" he said, indignant. "Be nice. I'm injured, remember?"

Her hands continued to work deftly, carefully lifting his arm as she wound the bandage around. Her touch was far softer than any ER doctor he'd had. How ironic, he thought absently. Hers were the hands of a killer; who'd have thought they'd be so skilful at healing?

"I am also injured," she said, not looking up from her work. "Am I to expect that you will be on your best behaviour?"

He gave an expression of mock hurt. "I am _always_ on my best behaviour!"

She ignored him.

"So what happened?" he asked. "The last I remember you were telling me you were sorry or something."

She hesitated. She didn't want to think about this. "I, uh, snapped your arm back into place," she said. "Well, as 'in place' as I knew how to."

"Then?"

She looked him in the face and gave a wry smile. "You screamed like a little girl and passed on."

"Out," he corrected automatically. Then he realised what she'd said. "Hey! DiNozzos do not scream."

"Apparently DiNozzos _do_ scream," she said. "My ears are still ringing."

He ignored that.

After a few minutes, she put down his arm and surveyed her work. Then, apparently satisfied, she climbed off him. He resisted the urge to make a comment.

"Stay here. I will be back in a few minutes," she said, moving to the door.

"What? Where are you going?" he asked, mildly alarmed.

"I have to get two sticks to brace your arm. You are a big boy. You will be fine," she said condescendingly.

He glared at her and bit back a retort. His arm was beginning to really hurt now, but he wouldn't let on. Whatever relief the painkillers had brought was apparently wearing off. He watched as Ziva pulled on the door handle and pushed.

The door didn't budge.

She tried again, harder this time.

Same result.

"Fantastic," she muttered, thoroughly pissed. "Just great."

"Problems, David?" Tony asked lightly.

Her response was to grab her discarded sweater, wrap it around her boot, and kick it through the window, all in one swift motion.

"What the hell?" Tony exclaimed as the glass shattered.

She smiled self satisfactorily. "Sorry. I must have slipped." She then proceeded to remove the rest of the glass from the frame and climb out. She stuck her head back through the window. "Wait here." And then she was gone.

Tony just looked down at his prone arm and let out a breath. "Yeah, like I could go anywhere," he muttered, sitting back and trying to ignore the growing pain.

Ten minutes later she was back with two fairly straight sticks.

"You have to get out of the car," she said. "It will make this much easier."

"Can you get my side door open?" he asked.

She tried. Nothing.

"You are going to have to climb out of the window."

"With this arm?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "That's never going to work. Not without it splinted."

She heaved a sigh. "Alright. Hang on, I am coming back in. But after this you are going to have to get out anyway. I do not wish to spend the rest of my life stuck in this car with you."

He smiled. "Oh, I think you'd enjoy it more than you're letting on."

"You only think that because you have an ego the size of a small island," she said, maneuvering back through the window. He didn't miss her wince as she lifted her injured leg.

"Just a small one?" he asked. His tone was light, but he was watching her carefully for signs that her wound was worse than she'd let on.

"For now," she said absently, crouching on the passenger seat. Glass cracked beneath her boots. "Here, hold these," she said, handing him the sticks. He took them. "Now, I need bandages, tape..." she muttered, looking through the kit and pulling out the necessary items. As she came across the painkillers she pulled them out too.

"Okay," she said and swung her leg over his body so she was once again straddling him. He opened his mouth to make a comment, but she put up her hand. "Not. A. Word."

He shut his mouth.

"Give me the sticks."

He did.

"Now." She put two of the pills into her hand and offered them to him. "Take these."

He shook his head. "No. I feel fine. Not in pain-"

She poked his arm lightly. He cringed, but forced out the last two words,

"-at all."

"Bullshit," she said and once again offered him the pills. "Do I need to force feed you these again?"

"It is a simple splinting, Ziva," he tried. "I'll be fine."

"You are in pain, DiNozzo," she said. "Take the damn pills."

"I won't. I don't need them." He clamped his mouth shut.

She rolled her eyes exasperated. "Fine. Whatever. Your loss."

He smiled, but it faded quickly. The pain really was quite bad. To occupy his mind, he watched as she splinted his arm carefully and was once again surprised by how good she was at it. Suddenly, something else caught his eye.

"I can see down your shirt right now." He could, too. And the fact that she was straddling him only made the situation better. Horrific arm injuries totally worth it, he thought. There was a tug of pain. Well maybe not totally worth it.

She smirked slightly, but did not look at him. "See anything good?"

His mind flashed back to the time she was alluding to, when they were in the warehouse, disarming a bomb.

"Yeah," he said, playing along. "Real good."

She fastened the bandage with a bit of tape, leaned back, and slapped his cheek lightly. "I know this one," she said. "Not worth dying over, right?"

He raised an eyebrow and gave a lopsided smile. "Oh, I don't know about that..."

She just rolled her eyes and began to fashion a sling out of a triangular bandage. Once satisfied, she lifted his arm carefully. "Bend your elbow. Slowly."

He did, trying to ignore the immense pain. When it was at ninety degrees she instructed him to hold it up with his other arm.

"Okay, lean forward." She too leant forward and put her arms around his neck to fasten the sling.

"Oh god, Ziva," he muttered, staring at her chest, the curve of her neck, her thighs around his...

She pulled away. "Oh pull it together, DiNozzo," she said, though she was secretly proud that she had managed to cause such a reaction. "Now, we just need to slowly slide your arm into the sling. Good."

Once supported by the sling and splint his arm started to feel a lot better. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"Sure," she said, packing up the kit and moving back to the passenger seat. "Come on, we need to get you out of here."

He nodded. "No complaints from me."

She got out first, taking with her the first aid kit and a couple of water bottles. Very carefully, and in extreme pain, he managed to get out too. For the first time since the accident, he looked around. Ziva was right- they really were in the middle of nowhere. They already knew their cellphones had no reception, but the complete lack of civilization was strangely eerie. To the right of the road was paddock after paddock. To the left, the side they had crashed on, the beginnings of a woodland. He turned back to Ziva.

"So what now?" he asked. "We just hang here until someone else drives along this road?"

She stared at him incredulously. "Actually," she said, "I think that is the worst thing we can do. If anyone does come it is likely to be our friends that shot me."

He saw her point, but didn't like it. "So what do you suggest?"

She arched an eyebrow and turned to the woods. "Ready for a hike?"

He balked. "There is no way you can walk with your leg in that condition."

"I do not see any other option. It should not be too far. On the other side of these woods is a town- we stopped at it on the way up."

"Oh yeah..."

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

He took a breath. "This has got to be the stupidest thing anyone has ever done..."

They began toward the dense, dark woods...

* * *

A/N: So.. shall I continue? What can be fixed? Any writing tips?

Tell me your favourite lines 'cause that makes me happy.

Review. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

I apologize in advance for the poor quality of this chapter. It is 1:30 in the morning and I have given up fighting with it.

Also, one reviewer brought to my attention that fact that there has been alot of swearing. I hadn't actually even noticed this, but I am sorry if I had offended anyone. In my defense, they are in a pretty high pressure situation.

So anyway, review. :)

* * *

"Okay," Tony was saying, crouched on the ground, conducting a mini inventory. "We have two bottles of water, several bandages and band-aids, a packet of matches, two power bars, some cotton swabs, alcohol wipes, eight pain pills…" he said, taking each item and placing it on the ground next to him. He continued reeling off the various items until there was nothing left.

"Done?" Ziva asked, her voice strangely strained.

They'd walked for a couple of hours before Tony had insisted they rest, if only to check their supplies. He knew Ziva was taking her injury far harder than she was letting on and it was easier to feign weakness on his part than to get her to admit she needed a break.

"You okay there?" he asked, packing the supplies back into the pack, arranging them so that the bottles would fit as well.

She didn't answer.

"Ziva?" he said, more loudly this time, looking up. She was sitting on a log, eyes closed, head tilted back to rest of a tree trunk. He could see the sweat clinging to her tank top. She seemed startled at her name.

"Hmm?"

He abandoned the pack and walked over to her. "You alright?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah, I am fine. We should get going though." She tried to stand but her legs buckled. He caught her around the waist with his uninjured arm, causing a jolt of pain to coarse through his body.

"Woah, Zee, steady there," he said, easing her back down. Unconsciously, he looked to her thigh and pulled back the fabric over the wound.

"Your leg is bleeding!" he said, alarmed.

She didn't look down. "It is fine."

"It is bleeding," he repeated. "By definition, _not_ fine."

"I must have bumped it," she said dismissively. "It will be okay."

"God, Ziva. Will you for once just admit that maybe you are less than invincible?" he said, exasperated, and walked back to the pack.

She didn't open her eyes, but spoke in a low voice. "No. To admit that would be to say that there is nothing I can do. I do not like to feel helpless." She said it as if she had a bad taste in her mouth.

"I've noticed," Tony muttered, and walked back to where she was sitting, pack in hand. "Stay still," he said, kneeling down beside her and pulling out his knife. "Thank god for rule number nine."

She cracked open an eye. "Never date a coworker? Why is that relevant?"

"Never go anywhere without a knife," he corrected, holding his blade up to show her. "Although it is interesting that your mind made such a leap," he said suggestively. "I'm flattered, really, but…"

"Would you like me to shove that knife in your eye, DiNozzo?"

"I'd prefer you didn't," he replied evenly, and turned his attention back to her wound.

She snorted and closed her eyes again.

It amazed him that she was the same person that had come home from Somalia just a few short months ago. How she could trust him he didn't know. He had, after all, killed her boyfriend, or whatever Rivkin was.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he turned back to the leg. Using his knife, he cut off her jean leg so it resembled one leg of a short short. He now had the room he needed to work. The leg was worse than he had expected it to be. It had resumed bleeding, but not only that, it had also become swollen, the skin around the wound tight, red, and hot. It was getting infected. Gingerly, he pressed one finger to the skin around the wound. He heard a sharp intake of breath as Ziva tried to ignore the pain.

As best he could, he used the alcohol wipes and some of the water to wipe out the injury. He was clumsy and it took longer than usual as he only had one functioning arm, but finally he was satisfied. He started dressing and bandaging.

"Ziva?" he asked, as he added the finishing touches.

"Yeah?" Her voice was croaky.

"You need to tell me if this gets worse okay?"

She opened her eyes and looked down at his work. "DiNozzo, the doctor…" she said with a wry smile. Then, she narrowed her eyes. "Hey!" she said. "I liked those jeans."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because that was high on my priorities- saving your jeans. Anyway, you'd already cut them up the side!"

She looked confused. "I did?" Realisation crossed her face. "Oh yeah… I guess I am a little fussy right now."

"Fuzzy," he corrected and picked up a water bottle. "Here, drink some."

She took a small gulp.

"And take these." He held out a couple of pain pills.

She started to protest, but he spoke first.

"It's not only for the pain. It will help with the inflammation. Take them." He pushed them into her hand. "I'm not having you die of infection after surviving that shootout. If Gibbs doesn't kill me I'm sure you'll come back from the dead and do it."

She narrowed her eyes, but took the pills, accepting his rationalization. "Now what?"

He packed up the bag. "Now we keep moving. I estimate we have about two hours before it starts getting dark. We should use the light while we can."

She nodded and he couldn't help noticing she looked a bit feverish.

It's hot, he told himself, and she's just tired and hot. It's normal.

But he knew it wasn't.

"Can you walk?"

She nodded and stood, somewhat shakily, but managed to keep her footing. "Okay, we should go."

He nodded and kept his eyes on her as she limped ahead. He hurried to catch up, stunned that she was so able with her injuries. He put it down to the crazy Mossad training.

"Talk to me, Tony," she said suddenly.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"In Mossad we are taught that if we are confronted with pain and have to push through, we should occupy our minds. This is not usually hard on a mission, because we are caught up in the midst of everything, but now…"

He knew what she meant. It was hot, eerie, and silent. She needed something to think about.

"Um, okay…" he said, thinking. His mind ran through all the things he desperately wanted to talk about, but knew he couldn't- Somalia, Rivkin, Mossad, Daddy David, their current relationship (or lack thereof)…

She cut into his thoughts. "So I was on this mission when I was, oh, twenty one," she said. "We were tagged with taking out the leader of a drug ring. I was undercover in a bar. Mossad likes to dress me up and make me sing to get men's attention."

"They do that because it's effective, Ziva," Tony interrupted. He wasn't sure where she was going with this, but it seemed to be taking her mind off the pain. She seemed more animated when she talked about her missions, as if the very thought of them took her back.

She rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I have noticed. Anyway, one night I was in my room at the hotel and our target just walked in my door."

"Why?"

"He wanted to sleep with me," she said simply.

"Shocker," Tony muttered. "So what'd you do?"

She shrugged. "I shot him."

"Lovely."

"Hmmm," she said. "But not before he pulled a knife."

Tony raised his eyebrows.

She went on, "See, I had expected it to be so easy that I had not even thought about the risks. He had just walked right into my room. It should have been simple. I have never again taken something for granted like that."

"So what happened?"

She lifted her shirt slightly to reveal a long thin scar along her right hip. "He gave me this."

"Ouch," Tony said, inspecting the scar. He straightened up. "Okay, my turn." He pulled up his shirt sleeve to reveal his bicep. "Not as dramatic, but the end result was pretty spectacular. Jumped off a rooftop trying to catch a suspect. Stupid idea." He pointed to a large scar. "Turns out garbage disposals aren't nearly as soft as they appear to be in the movies."

She chuckled. "Smooth." She showed him her arm. "Grazed by a bullet."

His calf. "Burned in a fire."

Her stomach. "Shrapnel from a bomb."

His ankle. "Stabbed in an altercation."

Her wrist. "Broken by an overbearing undercover boyfriend."

He pulled his shirt up and pointed to a circular scar on his side. "Ten years old, cigarette burn. My father gave it to me."

With pained eyes, and shocked at his sudden confession, she showed him a thin scar on the side of her ribs. "Eight years old, knife throwing training. Didn't get out of the way of his blade fast enough."

He met her eyes as she pulled her top down and smiled sadly.

"Let's camp here for the night. It's getting too dark to see anyway. Go to sleep, Ziva. We have another day of walking ahead of us tomorrow."

They lay down in silence, a mutual agreement not to bring it up again.

They were awoken four hours later but the sound of grumbling and a gunshot.

Ziva's eyes mirrored the panic in his own as she whispered. "They found us."

* * *

A/N: So... thoughts? Loved it? Hated it? Criticism?

Review with your favourite lines because that makes me happy. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I heart mlia.

Sorry for the hiatus. I was away at the beach and unable to update. I sincerely apologize. Feel free to send lunatic dogs to mauls me. I'd deserve it.

On a lighter note, I want to thank everyone so far for their awesome support- you've been great! I would love to see the reviews continue, and as always, if you have any issues, or think there are problems let me know. I'm a keen writer, so I'm always us for criticism that will help me improve my writing. I only want to get better :).

This chapter I don't think is great, but I'd love to hear your input. The story will be picking up soon and I have some pretty cool stuff planned (I think). It will probably end up being about ten chapters (unless you want more, lol). Let me know all your views.

And, before I sign off and let you go on to the story, I would like to say two things:-

One- I am super dooper excited for Jetlag. Woot. CAPSLOCK DOES NOT FULLY EXPRESS MY FANGIRLY JOY. :)

Two- Happy Australia Day to all my fellow Aussies (and anyone else :D). Hope you all had a fantastic day!

Enjoy, and please leave a review if you want more. It keeps me going :).

* * *

_They were awoken four hours later by the sound of grumbling and a gunshot._

_Ziva's eyes mirrored the panic in his own as she whispered, "They found us."_

Tony got to his knees and put a finger to his lips. _Quiet. _Ziva nodded, and too got to her knees. There was the snapping of a twig, and then footsteps, heavy on the woods floor.

"I'm going to kill them. I swear to god I'm going to-" said a deep male voice, his tone both angry and scratchy.

"Kill them, I know," a second voice finished tiredly. "I knew the last four hundred times you told me."

There was no reply from the first man, but the footsteps got louder, more insistent. Tony predicted they had about a minute before the men broke through the trees and saw them sitting there, vulnerable. He hoisted the pack on one shoulder and looked around for any place to hide. Of course they had to choose somewhere with no cover. He cursed his foolishness and turned back to Ziva.

"Come on," he mouthed, creeping off to the side of the small clearing.

She gave him a quizzical look, but didn't say anything and followed.

"That son of a bitch!" the first voice rang out again, much louder this time. "He killed my brother, that son of a-"

"Will you shut up?" the second cut in. "I don't need this crap. Let's just finish this."

There was a grumble from the first, but no further comment. The second seemed to be in charge.

45 seconds left.

Tony grabbed Ziva's arm and tugged her through some nearby trees. He looked around. They needed a good hiding spot. Ziva pulled her arm out of his and he turned to her, startled. She pointed to a large, dense bush about fifty metres away.

"Think we can make it?" she whispered.

30 seconds.

His response was to grab her hand in his and make a dash. Trying to keep silent, ignoring the pain as his arm jolted with every step and Ziva's injured leg made running slow going. They were almost there when he heard the voices again.

"You hear that?" The first guy.

A sigh from the second. "Yes, it's the sound of you talking incessantly and me fighting the urge to shove my gun down your throat."

Tony made his steps lighter and Ziva followed suit.

15 seconds.

We're not going to make it, Tony thought. They're going to kill us. We're not going to make it.

And just as he thought that, they reached the bush.

5 seconds.

He pulled Ziva's arm and lost his footing, falling backward. The plant swallowed him up and a second later Ziva followed, crashing to the ground next to him, both now covered completely by the bush. Tony fought the urge to cry out as his arm jarred and Ziva did the same as she fell on her leg.

The men broke into the clearing.

"I know I heard something that time!"

There was a gunshot. "Is that what you heard?" the second said, his tone all venom. "That was the sound of the last effing warning. The next one goes into your head and not the sky!"

There were a few moments of tense silence, then a mumbled, "Yes, sir."

"Good, let's move on. I want to find these dimwits and eliminate them, _preferably_ before next millennium."

The voices began to move further away.

Tony made a hasty inspection of his arm to ensure it hadn't gone out of place again, and it seemed to be fine. Silently, still wary of the men, he turned his attention to Ziva. She was lying on her side, facing away from him.

"Ziva?" he breathed, keeping his voice as low as possible.

He got no answer. The voices of the men had almost completely disappeared. There was now just the occasional mumble or crunch of a branch.

Tony pulled himself up and grabbed Ziva's shoulder. She flopped onto her back and gave a groan, slowly opening her eyes. "What?"

Tony let go of a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. "I thought-" He paused. "Never mind. You good?"

She closed her eyes for a moment. "I think my leg is a bit sore..." she said, very slowly.

He looked at Ziva's face, covered with a sheen of sweat and put his hand up to her forehead. His suspicions were confirmed. Fever. Bad fever.

"Tony, take your hand away. It is too hot," Ziva was muttering, trying to force him away.

He wasn't listening. Numbly, he pulled away and turned his attention to her leg. There was no doubt it was worse. They needed to get help soon, or the infection would spread to the rest of her body, she'd become septic, and die.

"Okay, Ziva," he said. He produced two more pills. "Take these."

Reluctantly, after a bit of goading, she swallowed the tablets. "What now?" she asked. The good news was that she seemed to be fairly alert, despite the pain and illness she must be feeling.

Tony didn't answer, instead pulling his shirt over his head with some difficulty, trying to keep his arm still.

Ziva raised her eyebrows and eyed him from her position on the ground. "Is this really the time, Tony?" she asked playfully. Her tone was forced, but he appreciated the distraction.

"No time like the present," he said, smiling and leaning toward her. They were nose to nose, and with each passing moment, their smiles were fading into a more sombre look.

"We are going to get out of this," Ziva finally said softly, her breath flush against his skin.

"Is that a question or a statement?" he fired back.

She didn't answer, but pulled her eyes from his and just like that the moment was lost. He pulled back and turned his attention to her leg, doing his best to clean it up, and re-bandaged it using torn off strips of his shirt.

"Let's just focus on the present, okay?" he said, shrugging on what was left of his shirt and looking back up at Ziva.

She nodded. "Yeah, okay."

He began to stand, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him back to her level. "Tony, I just wanted to say... thank you."

He gave her a strange look, but nodded. He was going to reply, but the words died in his throat when he realised their proximity. His eyes flickered to her lips and he found himself mesmerised. He could just lean in...

The lips were moving then, but he didn't catch what they were saying. "What?" he finally said, coming to his senses.

She lowered her eyes and gave him a look. "I said, we should get moving. The town cannot be too far now."

Tony shook his head slightly and moved to pull her up. "Uh, sure. Let's go."

At that moment there was another gunshot in the distance and the cold reality of their situation began to truly sink in. They were injured, alone and without means of contacting aid.

Oh, and they were being hunted.

* * *

A/N: So what did you think? Want more? Advice, criticism, good, bad, terrible? What were your favourite lines?

How did you spend your Aus Day? Did anyone go to BDO? How's the weather?

Let me know in a pretty little review. :) :)

Until next time! (And I promise it won't be as long!) ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Awkward starfish.

New chapter. Hope you enjoy.

What were your thoughts on Jetlag? I loved it :). It was just pure awesome. What did you guys think?

* * *

Gibbs sat at his desk in the dark, alone in the bullpen. McGee had gone down to Abby's an hour ago and had not yet returned. He looked across to Ziva's desk, then to Tony's. Where the hell were they? He and McGee had processed the scene at the warehouse the day before. Gibbs didn't much like that the bullet they pulled out of the dead man's chest had come from Tony's SIG. Even worse were the drips and skids of blood that had been positively identified as having come from Ziva. Then, a mile down the road, their car turns up, smashed almost beyond recognition with no one inside.

_The plot thickens. _

Gibb groaned and leant forward, rubbing his hands over his scalp roughly. Where _were_ they? He looked over at his clock. 4:30am. Time to get back out there, he decided. He was a marine sniper, a tracker. If anyone could find his agents, it was him.

He picked up his desk phone and dialled.

"McGee. Get your gear!"

"Boss?"

"Now, McGee! You've got five minutes to be in the garage or I'll slap you so hard-"

"Got it, Boss!"

Dial tone.

Gibbs smirked, despite their situation. _I knew I trained him well...

* * *

_

"So anyway, there's this ship, right?" Tony was saying, as he and Ziva trudged along. "And it's called the Black Pearl. Now it's cursed, okay?"

"Cursed?" Ziva sounded sceptical. "I do not understand why this Captain Jack would want a cursed ship."

"Oh, it wasn't cursed when he had it. It got cursed later, when they got the treasure and spent all the gold coins," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"So the treasure had some kind of connection to the ship, then?"

"No," Tony said. "It was the crew. Not the ship."

"You just said-"

"You have to listen, Ziva. You'll never pass that test if you don't."

Ziva huffed, frustrated. "I do not think that the citizenship test will be assessing my knowledge on the inner working of pirates in the Caribbean."

"Pirates _of_ the Caribbean!" Tony cut in. "It's a movie, Zee-vah."

"I got that much."

Tony was about to retort when she cut him off,

"Can we just talk about something else? All these plotlines are too confusing for me to handle right now."

Tony nodded, sliding a worried glance toward her. She seemed lively enough, but he could tell she wasn't getting better. Progress was slow and painful. She needed a doctor, and soon. They both did. "Sure," he said. "What do _you_ want to talk about? A book, I suppose."

Ziva rolled her eyes, but her heart clearly wasn't in it. "Is it so wrong that I like to read, DiNozzo?" she asked, her voice soft, but with a playful edge.

"When you don't watch movies to complement those books, then yes."

She gave a sigh and shook her head. I do watch movies, Tony. I just prefer books." She sounded serious this time so he decided to let the subject drop.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke again, intent on keeping conversation going and her alert.

"So where do you reckon we are?" He cursed the words as soon as they left his mouth.

She turned him and raised one eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"I, uh, I know we're in the wood and stuff, but..." he trailed off. "I just meant, how far until the town," he amended.

"How should I know?"

"Well you know, you're all crazy Mossad ninja and have secret powers and... Let's forget I started talking, yeah?"

She rolled her eyes again, but couldn't conceal the smirk on her face. "To answer your question, I do not believe we are far away now," she said.

"And how could you know that?" Tony asked incredulously, despite the fact that he had asked her the question first.

"I calculated the approximate distance from our car to the town, from when we drove, then factored in our estimated speed, our stops, conditions-"

"Stop!" Tony suddenly cut in.

She looked at him sideways. "What?"

He shook his head. "You talking like a McGeek is doing absolutely nothing for my fantasies, David."

She gave a sly smile. "So the whole sexy librarian image does not do it for you then?"

"You don't know Pirates of the Caribbean, but you know sexy librarian?"

She scoffed. "Everyone knows that. And you did not answer my question."

"Oh, so you want to talk fantasies then, David." Now _this_ was a topic of conversation he could roll with.

She didn't answer, just tipped her head to the side and gave that smile that drove him oh, so, crazy.

He grinned back at her. "Okay, if I must be honest-"

"You must."

He gave a half-hearted glare at the interruption. She raised her hands in surrender.

"As I was saying, if I must be honest," he continued, "I would have to say sexy librarian is definitely hot. McGeek impersonations, not so much." He gave her a suggestive sidelong glance. "What about you- do nerd guys get you all tingly-?"

She shook her head, cutting him off. "If given the choice I would have to say Johnny Depp-esque pirate would win any day."

He pointed at her accusingly with his uninjured arm and gave a gasp. "You _have_ seen Pirates of the Caribbean!"

She rolled her eyes. "Everyone has seen that movie, Tony. I really wish you had given me a little more credit."

He glared at her and she continued,

"And by the way, your explanation of the plot was terrible. No one could have followed that."

"Oh you did _not _just bag my movie knowledge..."

"I did not," she said sincerely. "I was '_bagging'_ your ability to explain the plot."

"This is not your field of expertise, okay? Do I criticize your many and varied methods of killing and torture?"

She let out a chuckle. "No, Tony, you do not. I apologize. I overstepped my bounds." Her tone was patronizing in the extreme. Nevertheless, he gave a nod and seemed to accept her apology.

It was a few minutes before either of them spoke again, and this time it was Tony. He stopped walking and grabbed her arm to still her.

"Hey, Ziva?"

She was taken aback by his serious tone and looked to his face, searching for some kind of indication that he was screwing with her. There was none.

"What?" she asked, looking down to where his hand was still curled around her bicep. He noticed her looking and dropped it.

"I, uh, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She was confused.

"Yeah," he continued, stumbling over his own words. They were all laying there in front of him; he just had to get them out. Easier said than done. "You know, for crashing the car and almost getting us killed and-"

"Tony, shut up."

He looked up, shocked. "What?"

"I said shut up," she said, looking genuinely angry now. "You cannot apologize now. You cannot say sorry, because that means you have doubts about us getting out of here. I cannot think that, and neither can you. You just..." She took a breath. "You just cannot, okay?"

He looked at her stunned, and realised that she was almost toe to toe with him. When had that happened?

"Uh, okay," he managed.

She forced out a smile. "And also, it was not your fault. So no apology was warranted."

He was struck then, by how stupid their whole situation was. How the hell did this happen? Two days ago they were cracking jokes in the bullpen and now...

He was pulled from his thoughts by Ziva's voice.

"Uh, Tony?"

"Yeah?" he asked, looking down at her. She really didn't look good. Well, she looked _good_, just not well. She closed her eyes then, and swayed a little on the spot. "Ziva?" he asked, alarmed. His uninjured arm was already in place to catch her.

"I just..." she trailed off. "I do not feel so-"

Her words were lost as she collapsed onto his arm and the world fell away.

* * *

"Yeah, I'll take a coffee," Gibbs said to the man at the counter of the dingy coffee shop. After searching the woods all morning, the two agents had finally decided to take a break in the nearby town before heading out again.

"Hey, Gibbs?" It was McGee. He was sitting at one of the table, laptop open in front of him.

"Just wait a minute, McGee," Gibbs said, still talking to the cashier.

"Any milk or sugar?" the man asked.

"Gibbs, you need to-"

"Wait, McGee!" Gibbs said, then turned back to the man and shook his head, almost in disgust. "No. I just want it black."

The man nodded and turned to his register. "Okay, that'll be-"

"Gibbs!" McGee finally yelled.

"What?!" Gibbs yelled back, angry at the interruption.

McGee shrunk back slightly. "Sorry Boss, it's just that Tony's phone has come into range."

"What?"

"I know where they are," McGee said excitedly. "I can track them."

Gibbs left the counter without a word and headed for the door. Halfway out the door he yelled back, "You coming, McGee, or would you like a formal invitation?"

McGee grabbed his laptop and left without a word.

The man at the counter stood there, stunned, before shaking his head and returning to work.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts? Review with your favourite lines. :) It keeps me writing.

P.S. I'm curious who on here reads mlia. Just wondering.

Review! :)


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Awkward turtles should always be upside down.

Hey homies! I apologise sincerely for the wait; school began again, and so too did the torrent of homework that inevitably comes with it. You should all actually feel super special- I'm bypassing physics, chemistry, biology and maths homework to do this. Woo for procrastination! ;)

Now, I want to take a moment to thank you all so much for your reviews! You all rock so much. Keep them coming.

So, chapter speak: I'm not really happy with this, and my excuse is that all my brain cells have shriveled and died just in time for school. I'm sure some of you understand. Those who don't, have any tips on rehydrating them? I do need that brain power at some point.

See what I'm doing here? It's called stalling. But I'm all too aware I can't avoid this forever. So, without further adieu, (ha, I've always wanted to use that word :)) bring on chapter seven. It's gets a little crazy here. You've been warned.

This chapter is for aqiran, for making me smile.

Enjoy! And please review! :)

* * *

_He was pulled from his thoughts by Ziva's voice._

"_Uh, Tony?"_

"_Yeah?" he asked, looking down at her. She really didn't look good. Well, she looked __good__, just not well. She closed her eyes then, and swayed a little on the spot. "Ziva?" he asked, alarmed. His uninjured arm was already in place to catch her._

"_I just..." she trailed off. "I do not feel so-"_

_Her words were lost as she collapsed onto his arm and the world fell away._

Unable to hold her, he gently lowered her to the ground.

"Ziva? Ziva!"

Her eyes remained closed.

Tony ran through a checklist.

Uh, breathing: erratic, but present.

What's next? Pulse! Thready. Not good.

Crap. Why, oh, why hadn't he paid more attention in those first aid courses?

"Ziva!" he shouted again, and this time she stirred slightly. He leant back and let out a breath. "Oh, thank god."

Ziva opened her eyes and looked around. "What happened?" she croaked out, pushing herself into a sitting position.

"You fainted. Or passed out. Or something." Tony ran his hands through his hair. "I'm not a doctor. God, you need a doctor."

"Tony, I am fine," she said.

But she wasn't. Neither of them were.

After a short break, in which they both had a drink and, as a compromise, each took two of the pills, Tony hauled Ziva up and placed her arm over his shoulder, careful not to disturb his arm. She protested at first, but when it became painfully obvious she was unable to walk on her own, she finally relented.

Despite her injuries, Ziva couldn't help but notice the definition in Tony's biceps.

"Been working out?" she asked, her voice croaky and tired, but managing to keep that playful edge.

Tony gave a soft laugh, all too aware of how forced their banter was becoming.

Anything to get their minds off reality, right?

"Of course," Tony said. "I would complement your physique, but I think you're already far too conscious of how I think about that..." And with that, he let his eyes travel up and down her body.

She smiled slightly. "Is this the time to ogle me?"

Tony grunted as he pulled Ziva up further to stop her from slipping. She was become less and less able to walk by herself. "Hmmm, ogle. Got it right this time."

"I have a steep learning curve."

"Ha!" Tony scoffed. "I beg to differ. How many times have you screwed up the 'pot calls the kettle black' idiom?"

"How am I supposed to know what appliance is what colour?" she replied lazily, trying to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. It was difficult because Tony seemed to be carrying a majority of her weight and she was unable to command her legs to move fast enough to keep up with him.

Suddenly, a sharp sound rang out in the relative quiet, effectively silencing any comeback Tony may have had. He stopped, wide-eyed, fully prepared to pull his weapon, when he realised it was just his phone.

Just his phone?

That meant reception. And civilisation. And safety.

"Can you grab that?" Tony asked, his only free hand occupied with keeping her standing.

Ziva turned her head slowly. "Where... is it?" she stumbled over the words, her mind becoming a cloudy mess.

"Back pocket. Right side."

Ziva reached around and slipped her hand into his pocket.

Tony stiffened. Okay, DiNozzo, quash those inappropriate thoughts. This is not the time. We are injured. Stop thinking about that. Think about McGee. In a maid's outfit. With Gibbs. Don't think about your incredibly hot partner who currently has her hand... DAMN it!

"Yes?" he heard a breathy voice next to him.

He cracked open one eye. Ziva was on the phone. All clear.

"Speaker phone, Ziva," he said, and watched as she pulled the phone away from her ear and clumsily hit a few buttons until Gibbs' voice rang out.

"-the hell are you doing, Ziva? What's that beeping-"

Tony cut him off. "Sorry, boss. We were just trying to get it on speaker. We're good now. Well, sort of," he amended.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs couldn't conceal the relief that flooded his voice. "McGee's tracing your cell. We're on our way." There was a short silence. "You good, DiNozzo?"

"Define good."

"Healthy?"

Cue a forced laugh from Ziva and a wry smile from Tony. "Let's just say we're going to need an ambulance or a Medivac or whatever's quickest."

Gibbs didn't answer for a moment. Then, "Done. Don't worry Tony, we're not far away now. Just stay on the phone-"

Beep, beep, beep.

Gibbs stared down at his phone. "What the hell?" He threw it at McGee. "Make it work!"

McGee looked up, wide eyed. "I can't, boss. The problem's not on our end. Tony's phone must have died. I've lost the signal, too."

"So we don't know where they are?"

McGee looked back to his laptop. "I have their last position, so assuming they don't move-"

"And if they do?" Gibbs demanded.

McGee didn't answer, and that was all the reply Gibbs needed. He punched the steering wheel angrily and McGee flinched.

"_Damn_ it!"

* * *

"What happened?" Ziva asked softly and the little screen went blank.

"Crap," Tony muttered. "Battery died."

Ziva sighed. "Because things were not already bad enough..."

He turned her to face him. "They'll find us, Ziva. You can't forget that for one second, okay. They've got our position now."

She broke his gaze and looked to the side. "Forgive me if I am not feeling all that faithful right now." Her tone had a bitter edge to it.

He used his index finger to tip her head back in his direction and force her to look at him. He held her eyes for a moment, flickering between them, and then his gaze dropped to her lips.

"You gotta have faith, Ziva," he said, not looking away.

She leant in slightly. "Tony..."

He swallowed and leant in, grazing his lips against hers. She shivered unconsciously. It was just them. Just them in the woods with no Gibbs and no damn rule twelve and no Jeanne or Rivkin looming over their heads. It was quiet and there were no insecurities or pressure and they were actually going to-

And that was when a loud voice rang out from behind them.

And that was when their heads snapped to the sound and the moment was gone.

And that was when they saw the men with the guns and the words finally registered...

"Well, well, well." Sadistic grin. "_Lookie_ what we have here..."

* * *

A/N: So... thoughts? Good, bad, maybe? Let me know by pressing that little button!

Review with your favourite lines! :)


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer:

Oh. My. God. An update. Be shocked.

No, but seriously, I'm super sorry for such a long hiatus. Some stuff's been going on and I've been hugely overworked at school. I have exams in a couple of weeks so I thought I'd write you all a present in case I die or go insane or run away, lol. And I just want to say a HUGE thank you to all the followers and reviewers of this story. It makes my day, really, and does make me smile even when everything else feels a little sucky. Maybe that sounds lame, but hey, it's how I roll.

So please leave a little review, even if it's just to say you're enjoying the story or to let me know your favourite lines or parts.

Thanks so much :)

Enjoy and review.

* * *

_He swallowed and leant in, grazing his lips against hers. She shivered unconsciously. It was just them. Just them in the woods with no Gibbs and no damn rule twelve and no Jeanne or Rivkin looming over their heads. It was quiet and there were no insecurities or pressure and they were actually going to-_

_And that was when a loud voice rang out from behind them._

_And that was when their heads snapped to the sound and the moment was gone._

_And that was when they saw the men with the guns and the words finally registered..._

_"Well, well, well." Sadistic grin. "Lookie what we have here..."_

_

* * *

_

Tony's eyes widened slightly and his grip tightened on Ziva as she began to slip again. One of the men took a step forward.

"Stop right there." He cocked his gun. "Drop the girl."

Tony didn't move.

The other man stepped forward to flank his partner . "He said, drop the girl." He too cocked his gun.

Tony made no move to let go of Ziva, instead hoisting her up further.

"Tony..." she tried to say, but he shushed her.

"People are going to hear that shot," he said loudly. "We're too close to the town for you to risk it."

The first man waved his gun. "I'm not screwing around. Drop her."

This time, Tony hesitated for a moment, before carefully placing Ziva on the ground at his feet. When he was done, he raised his arms in surrender.

"Now what?"

The men looked at each other, smiled, and took another step forward.

* * *

"McGee!" Gibbs all but yelled. "Tell me where we are!"

"Almost there, boss. Take this right."

Gibbs yanked the steering wheel and McGee could have sworn the car was on two wheels for a few seconds. He felt his lunch rising in his stomach and swallowed. Oh God, Gibbs could not see him throw up...

"Now, McGee?"

McGee took a second to regain his bearings. "Oh, uh... straight for another 200 metres or so."

Gibbs stepped on the accelerator and McGee was forced back into his seat. The little red point on his screen flashed.

"Stop!"

The car screeched to a sudden stop and McGee hit the dash. Wow, seatbelts are truly useless when Gibbs is driving, he thought. He didn't have time to regain his sense before Gibbs had shouted, "McGee! Where are they?"

McGee pushed himself back into his seat and retrieved his laptop which was, thankfully, still functional. "This is where they went off the track." He pointed to the right of the car and undid his seatbelt. "Through those trees."

Gibbs was already heading that way. "You armed?" he shouted back to McGee as he began to follow.

McGee unconsciously reached down and felt for his weapon. "Yeah..." he said, looking at Gibbs' disappearing figure curiously. "Why?" he asked, slamming the door and running to catch up. "You expecting trouble?"

Gibbs didn't answer and McGee thought it wise not to ask again.

* * *

"What are you going to do now?" Tony ventured, crouching slightly in an attempt to get closer to Ziva. He knew she had at least three weapons at any given time and he was hoping that this was no exception.

"Stop moving," one of the men said, and held the gun up a little higher. Tony held his arms up and straightened slightly. "Dennis," he said, nodding to his right hand man. "Grab his gun. You," he said to Tony, "Try anything and I'll put a bullet in your girlfriend's head."

"She's not my girlfriend," Tony replied through clenched teeth as the man named 'Dennis' relinquished Tony of his weapon. He wasn't sure why it was such an important distinction to make at that time; it was almost just reflexive.

"Whatever," the other guy replied lazily. "Won't matter much longer anyway."

"And why is that?" Tony asked warily, as Dennis moved back again, this time aiming Tony's own gun at his chest. Ouch, that hurt.

"Because you'll both be dead."

Tony shook his head. His harms were still raised and _god_ they were getting sore. Focus, DiNozzo, he thought. This is one of those times you don't want to be distracted by stupid and irrelevant things. "I don't believe you," he said. "If that were true you would have killed us already."

"I want to see you suffer," Dennis said unevenly, and the gun in his hand trembled slightly.

"Shut up!" the other man yelled, clearly in charge. Except... that was when Dennis swung around and pulled the trigger twice. The shots echoed out; one body fell to the ground, crimson blood staining the dank ground.

* * *

McGee and Gibbs both stumbled slightly as two shots rang out, instinctively shielding themselves. "Crap..." was the first word uttered out of Gibbs' mouth before he set off at a sprint. The shots were close. Tony and Ziva were close.

* * *

"Shit," Tony said as the other man, Dennis' supposed leader, fell to the floor, two bullets embedded in his chest. "And all along I thought he was the big bad guy."

"Never underestimate the power of revenge." Dennis took a step toward Tony. "Of... vengeance."

Oh god, now that was all too familiar, Tony thought as his mind unwilling flicked back.

_"So what are you doing here?" _

_"Well Saleem, there's only one force on Earth that can short circuit a man's better instincts, put fire in his veins, makes him dive head long into danger with no regard for his own well being... Vengeance, Saleem. I'm here to kill you." _

Tony looked into the eyes of the man who wanted to kill him and all he saw were the cold eyes of Saleem.

"You want vengeance?" Tony asked.

Dennis nodded. "You killed my brother. You just... killed him."

"He was trying to kill me," Tony pointed out. "I'm not the bad guy here." He immediately regretted his words.

"So my dead brother is the bad guy then?" He was just getting more and more riled up.

Tony heaved a breath, his arms well and truly killing him now. Not that that was important. "Let's just get to the point. You want to kill me. Why haven't you? You had no problem killing your friend over there." He gestured with his head to the motionless body on the ground.

"I told you. I want you to suffer."

"Suffer?" Now that sounded bad. "Suffer how?"

Dennis gave an utterly cruel smile and suddenly changed where his gun was aimed from Tony's chest to a lower target. Ziva.

"Woah, woah, woah," Tony was saying, trying to position himself back in front of the gun. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to kill her."

"Bad idea," Tony said. His heart was beating a mile a minute, his blood pounding in his ears, and he was just trying to keep a calm exterior. As of yet, that was failing. Miserably.

"Yeah?" The gun went back to Tony's chest, likely a reaction to all of Tony's jittering.

"Yeah. Her family... well, they're involved with some pretty powerful dudes."

And that was when the guy furrowed his brow like he had no idea what he'd gotten himself into. Given another second, that look probably would have vanished and he'd be back to anger, but he didn't get another second.

Because in that moment, the previously motionless figure between them had just enough time to grab the gun at the small of her back and fire it once. For a Mossad trained assassin, half-conscious on the ground, once was apparently enough.

Dennis fell to the ground, a single perfectly rounded hole in his skull.

Tony let out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding and dropped to Ziva's side, wide-eyes. "Shit, Ziva, what was that?"

She was tired, sick and aching, but she still managed to force out a wry smile as the trees behind them rustled and McGee and Gibbs ran toward them, panting heavily.

"Oh, Tony, who said I had to be fully conscious to kick ass?" was all she managed before the faces over her blurred, and disappeared.

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think? FAVOURITE LINES? Good? Bad? Completely ridiculously dumb?

Let me know, please :D


	9. Chapter 9

_**Disclaimer: **Bitch, please._

_**Author's Note: **Sorry?_

_So I guess you could say I've been busy. It's been a weird year or so punctuated by death, parental divorce, and various other happenings and non happenings. So an apology for my absence is all I can really offer. I'm not promising steady updates on all my fics, but I'll try to get back into this. Like I said, it's been a weird year. For my shitness, here's an extra long chapter... _

_I'm not sold on this chapter. I don't think I really like it, but I've given up fighting with it so I'll let you guys be the judge. _

_I know you're probably all hating on me right now, but I'd really love for you to review and give me some feedback of any sort (good or bad). I really want to improve and reviews help me to keep motivated to write and get better. _

_Anyways, please enjoy. Drop me a line (review) and let me know what you think :) As always, I'm open to criticism and all that so let me know._

* * *

It was so loud. That was the only thing that Ziva had the capacity to focus on at that point. Then, it was the shouting.

"We've got to get her stabilised. She's not coping." The low, tense voice of a man.

"How far out are we from a hospital?" a woman shouted over the excruciatingly loud noise of helicopter propellors.

There was a shout from somewhere else- the pilot. "Ten minutes!"

Ziva couldn't remember much after that. Just more yelling, the unceremonious- almost rough- treatment from paramedics who had seen it all, and a hand grasping hers.

"Sweetcheeks?" She felt hot breath on her ear along with the single whispered word.

Ziva tried to make a sound, any sound. She tried to open her eyes or wiggle a finger but she was just so exhausted. And as she drifted of again the strained voice spoke once more:

"You're going to be okay, Ziva. You're going to be okay because otherwise I'll kick that ninja ass of yours so hard..."

* * *

Tony sat on the hospital bed as a rather attractive doctor eyed Ziva's makeshift splint. She introduced herself as "Doctor Perry, but you can call me Ella" and then made a face as she gingerly pulled at the splint.

"You really did have the bare minimum, huh?"

Tony winced and looked down at her as she sat on a stool in front of him and picked out a needle. Painkillers, she said, injecting him when he nodded his consent.

"She did the best she could," he said defensively. The doctor raised her eyebrows slightly and continued to work.

"She?"

"My partner," Tony said quickly, and oh god the way the doctor had said "she" was the same way _everyone_ said it. With that 'ooh la la, a giirrrl, huh?' intonation.

Ella the doctor's eyes widened a little in recognition. "The other fed who came in with you?"

Tony nodded. Ziva had been in such a bad way the last time he saw her. He'd almost punched the poor doctor that had disallowed him into the surgical wing.

Ella saw the pained look in his eyes. "They have the best people working on her," she said. "Doctor Anson is an excellent physician. Your partner is in good hands."

Tony just nodded again, somehow unable to speak.

"You two are pretty close?" Ella asked, trying to fill in the silence.

"Oh, you know, we work together and all that..." Tony muttered and turned to look out the window where he could see the rest of the team watching him. He gave an obligatory smile and thumbs up gesture.

"That your family?" the doctor asked, taking note.

Tony just laughed a little, gave a barely perceptible nod, but didn't reply. Ella didn't push it, and worked in silence for a few more moments before declaring Tony needed surgery and leaving to schedule an OR.

* * *

A little while later, freshly splinted, dosed up and given copious amounts of antibiotics, Tony sat in his hospital bed enjoying the morphine buttone attached to his arm. Abby sprinted into the room and wrapped him in a hug, having to be pulled away by McGee when the pain in his arm bordered on unbearable, despite his heavy medication. Ducky gave him a reassuring smile and Gibbs just nodded his head in acknowledgment as he sat down on a chair in the corner of the room.

"Boss-man!" Tony said, smiling widely. "The man who is a boss. Kind of like spider man. A man who is a spider. Or super man. A man who is super. Cat woman. A woman who is a cat." He frowned. "Now that I think about it, their names really do lack a certain creativity."

Gibbs just stared. "Go easy on the painkillers, DiNozzo."

Tony's smiled faded, remembering the last time he'd perhaps overdone his medication. "Ziva?" he asked to no one in particular.

McGee spoke up from beside him. "They know we're here. She's still in surgery, but they'll let us know if there's any updates."

"And you don't know anything more?"

McGee just shook his head. "Sorry, that's all they could tell us."

Tony managed a weak smile. "It's okay, McGoo. Ziva's Ziva. And if Ziva's taught us anything it's that a Ziva is always okay. Right?"

McGee smiled and nodded. "Sure, Tony."

They barely noticed the door open and all jumped at the call of: "Are you the family for Ziva David?"

Gibbs was the first to address the doctor, "How is she?" He had neither the time nor inclination for pleasantries.

"She's in recovery," the doctor said and Tony released a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. "You can visit her once we've moved her to her room, but I can't guarantee she'll be awake. She's going to be fine."

To Tony's left, Abby was throwing her arms around McGee, and to his right Ducky was patting Gibbs on the back with a smile. Tony felt strangely out of time. He felt as if the world around him was either speeding up or slowing down, but he didn't know which. It just all felt so wrong and hushed and just not right. There was a light clap on his back and he jolted slightly.

"You right there, DiNozzo?" It was Gibbs.

Tony just nodded. "Wheelchair me. Let's go see her."

* * *

She was awake when they entered the room, albeit a little drowsy. They each gave her an awkward leaning over hug and expressed their thankfulness that she was okay before settling around the room in various chairs.

Abby was the first to speak, and of course her comment was slightly awkward and inappropriate, because it was Abby after all: "So guys," she said, "you got to play doctor out there, ey? Alone in the woods... in the sweltering heat... hey Tony-" her face was fixed in a perfect mix of suggestiveness and amusement "-where's the rest of your shirt, hmm?" Tony looked down at himself and remembered tearing off strips of his top not so long ago to dress Ziva's wounds.

Gibbs glared slightly. "Abby..." he warned.

"Oh lighten up, Gibbs. I'm just joking, right guys?" Abby said, waving her hand dismissively and looked between the two.

Ziva spoke up, and although her voice was soft, her words rang out loud and clear. "No Abby, in between the being hunted and horrific injuries, we also had time to have crazy sex out there in the woods."

Tony donned a grin that couldn't be rivaled. He could play this game too. "In fact," he supplied, "I really should get the nurse to check out these grazes on my back-"

Tony was cut off with a head-slap and a shout of: "DiNozzo!"

Abby laughed aloud, while Gibbs' glare just deepened.

McGee cleared his throat. "And that's my cue to leave. Not that this sauna of sexual tension isn't something I enjoy dealing with daily, but I really have to get back to the office. Case reports don't write themselves." He gave Ziva another hug and told her to get better with promises of visiting again soon.

Tony wheeled to the spot McGee had just vacated next to Ziva and sat down, reveling in the fuzzy feelings that coursed through his bloodstream and all the way to his brain.

"God, Zee-Vah," he said, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. "We have got to get us some morphine for the first aid kit. This is_ far_ better than that weak-ass crap we had out there."

"Pretty sure that's illegal, To-Nee," she said, deliberately mocking his enunciation of her name.

He pulled a face. "I'm sure we could make it happen. Ducky, you're a doctor..."

Ducky cut in. "That's clearly the drugs talking, Tony, but I do feel obliged to mention that you are teetering ever so close to conspiring to obtain illicit substances with a room full of federal agents."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, all I heard out of that was 'teat'."

"Oh Tony, always a charmer," Ziva muttered sarcastically.

"I do try, Ziva," he replied, flashing a smile.

Ziva rolled her eyes and turned to grab the glass of water off her bedside table, but the blanket wrapped around her leg and twisted it awkwardly, tugging at her stitches. Before she could stop herself from showing what she deemed to be weakness, she winced. It was so slight that no one but Tony, who had been observing her closely since they first entered the room, noticed.

Tony was out of his wheelchair and had his free hand on hers in a flash. "Ziva?" he said anxiously. "You alright?"

She let out a breath and opened her eyes. "Yes," she said, and her voice was strained, as if every word was an effort to verbalise. "The blanket caught... I am fine."

"Do you need anything?" he asked, his face still wearing that same worried expression that she just found annoying.

"I am _fine!_" she said forcefully, hating the sympathy he forced her way, the way he assumed her vulnerable and weak. When she saw his face deepen with worry, she immediately regretted her outburst. Great, now she was not only weak, but also a nut-job. Fantastic. She sighed. "I am sorry. Honestly, I am okay."

He sat down again but didn't lose the worried look.

She looked pointedly at his hand still grasping hers. "Enjoying yourself?"

When he spoke, his tone was light, but his smile was sincere. "Oh, you know me, Ziva. I'll take any physical contact with women that I can get."

She raised her eyebrows and gave a chuckle. Still, he removed his hand, and for some reason they both felt a sense of loss that neither really understood.

She ignored it and gestured to his arm. "How is it?"

He seemed shocked, as if he'd forgotten it was even there. "Oh, okay I think. I must thank you for your improv doctor skills. Probably saved my arm."

"Yes, well I figured your right arm is pretty important for certain... activities-"

"Hey!" Tony cut her off.

She shrugged innocently. "You shoot right handed, yes?" To anyone else, it was a perfectly harmless question, and yet in that voice, between them, her words were supremely suggestive.

He tried to glare at her, but it came out as a sort of half-smile that, once again, seemed strangely intimate. She held his gaze for a moment too long before dropping it and picking up an easy conversation about a new case in another department, something that all five of them could easily debate about.

Ducky and Gibbs left soon after, with Gibbs supplying the somewhat cryptic warning to Tony of: "Be careful now."

Tony had nodded, but not known at all what he was agreeing to.

* * *

"Had a change of heart then?" Ducky said to Gibbs as the door to Ziva's room swung shut behind them.

Gibbs took a sip of his ever present cup of coffee. "What?"

Ducky just gave a slight smile. "Well I may not be as well versed in your infamous rules as your proteges are supposed to be, but I certainly am aware of the controversial law known as-"

"Rule number twelve," Gibbs supplied, cutting in.

"I take it you noticed then?"

Gibbs shook his head. "They're always like that, Duck."

"But you did notice." And this time it wasn't a question.

Gibbs just shook his head again, and refused to say anything else.

* * *

Abby looked between Tony and Ziva as the door shut. She narrowed her eyes. _Something_ had happened. Maybe not crazy monkey sex on the woods floor, but something else. There had been a shift, a change, and she wanted to know what.

"Okay, spill."

Both Tony and Ziva turned to face her. "What?" Tony said, genuinely confused.

Abby pointed at Ziva, "You," then at Tony, "and you are hiding something."

"What?" That was Ziva.

"What did you do?" Abby said, putting everything she could into her 'tell-me-what-happened-or-I'll-kill-you-and-leave-no-forensic-evidence' face.

"Got kidnapped."

"Yeah, what _else_?"

"Got shot."

"I'm going to find out," Abby said. "You might as well just tell me."

Tony shrugged. "Legitimately got no idea what you're on about, Abs."

With one last glare, and a point of her finger, she edged towards the door. "I _will_ find out." The door shut behind her.

Tony and Ziva shared a look before the door burst open again.

"Just checking," Abby said, and had the good grace to look guilty. "See ya tomorrow guys. Love you. Bye."

After a moment of silence, Tony turned to Ziva.

"So you're okay, right?"

"Yeah," Ziva said. "Just no physical activity for a few weeks."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "What kind of physical activity?"

Ziva flashed a teasing smile. "Oh, you know, anything that involves sweating, pushing, repetitive motions..."

Tony tipped his head. "So no rowing then?"

She laughed aloud then. "Sure. It's a shame," she said, smiling coyly. "I really enjoy... rowing."

Tony looked down. "Is there anyone that you are currently _rowing_ with?"

"Not right now," Ziva said, raising her eyebrows slightly at the question.

Tony just nodded. "Okay," he said, a little awkwardly. "Well I should go. Gotta get back to my morphine pump. I'm sure it's missing me already."

She laughed slightly. "Yeah, okay. See you later, Tony."

He squeezed her hand and smiled lightly. "I'm glad you're okay. You really scared me for a while there."

She nodded. "Right back at you."

"Well," Tony said abruptly, cutting off what may have for anyone else been a tender moment, "see ya, Sweetcheeks." He started to wheel himself out, having to use his feet to push himself along. "I'll drop round for dinner. I hear they're serving sandwiches. It's gonna be wild."

She laughed. "Sure." But then the door was shut behind him and all she felt was alone, and in pain, and kind of hollow.

* * *

**A/N:** As always, what were your **favourite lines?**

How was this chapter? Good? Bad? Awful? Let me know :) Thanks for reading.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer: **Everyone, watch Dr. Horrible._

_**Author's Note:**_

_What up? An update, that's what._

_"Review five!" - You can either picture Barney or The Todd saying this (Seriously, pretty please review)._

_As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy._

* * *

Returning to work was strictly forbidden by Gibbs, who threatened death to both Tony and Ziva if either showed up the next day.

"You each have two weeks of medical leave. Use it," he'd said, with that death glare that they'd come to know so well.

Ziva was, as usual, unaffected by it. She detested weakness, and couldn't bear to spend the next two weeks cooped up in her apartment by herself. She'd go insane- she was sure of it. "But Gibbs, I'm fine," she protested. "I'm sure there's something I could do around the office-"

For her troubles, she was cut off swiftly.

"No," was all Gibbs said.

Ziva opened her mouth again, but Gibbs intensified his glare and she changed her tone. "So what exactly _should_ I do for the next two weeks then? Knit? Cook?" Sarcasm laced her words.

"You can cook for me," Tony said, finally having some input. "I like that pumpkin thing you make."

She sighed. "It was just pumpkin pie, Tony, you_ idiot_." She swore then, rapid-fire in about six different languages. Tony understood two; Gibbs three.

"Ziva," Gibbs said placatingly, "go home. Rest. Eat. Sleep. Come back in two weeks without those" -he gestured to her crutches- "and I will gladly have you back in the squadroom."

She gave one last glare before turning to Tony. "Split a cab home?"

Tony nodded, and they each brushed past Gibbs to the exit of the hospital. It was clear Tony was meant to take Ziva's side in this argument. Even so, he turned back and threw an apologetic look to Gibbs over his shoulder, ever the suck-up.

They's been in the hospital for a week and a half, nursing injuries and feelings, and Tony was more than ready to get out, go home, and have a shower unassisted by the rather large balding man-nurse who insisted on helping him every morning. Ziva had just been plain agitated to leave the entire time, insisting that at Mossad she'd had far worse and never required so much attention. Tony always replied with a smile and "Well you're in America now, Ziva. You know, A-Me-Ri-Ca-" to which he was always cut off with a smash or crash as the closest object within Ziva's reach was flung at his head.

The cab ride home was only mildly tense. Neither ever being particularly 'feeeeeelings-y', they had chosen the 'ignore it and hope it goes away' route on the the whole almost-kiss issue. Thus far, they'd filled the time by tackling topics such as the Weather, What's on the Hospital Menu, Which Insane Movie Tony will force Ziva to watch next, and Whether or not Harry Potter is better than Star Wars. The mundane chit chat was awkward at first, but was beginning to fell more and more natural by the day, and for that, both were thankful.

So neither were really sure how the next arrangement happened, but in their medical leave induced boredom, they'd somehow taken up residence at each other's houses.

* * *

It had started out with dinner at Ziva's to celebrate their homecoming.

"Ziva," Tony said admonishingly, shutting the door to her apartment behind him. "Are you meant to be off those yet?" He looked pointedly at the abandoned crutches in the corner of the room and then back at her as she limped towards him.

Ziva had a slightly guilty look on her face as she answered with a steady, "Yes, of course."

He brushed past her and into the kitchen. "For an assassin, you are a horrible liar."

She opened her mouth to object, but decided against it. "Shut up; I'm making you dinner."

Tony just shrugged, knowing better than to argue with her, and reached up to one of the cupboards. He opened it, pulled out two glasses, and placed them on the table. For the first time, Ziva noticed the champagne bottle in his hand as he tipped it toward her slightly and raised his eyebrows.

She nodded. "Sure. Make it a full glass."

Tony obliged and passed it to her before pouring his own.

"So," he said, swirling the contents of his glass. "I'm thinking Friends marathon tomorrow. I can't wait to introduce you to the magic that is nineties sitcoms."

She snorted, but didn't object, and the next night she found herself on Tony's couch with a slice of pizza in one hand and a beer in the other. That night, they watched half of the first season, and Ziva had decided that it was a show worth sticking with.

* * *

By night five, Ziva had cooked Tony dishes from three separate countries and Ross had cheated on Rachel.

* * *

On night seven Ziva drank so much that Tony hid her keys in his freezer to prevent her from wrapping her car around a telephone pole, and her wallet under the sink to stop her from getting in a cab and then forgetting her address. She was too drunk to even follow the conversation and instead got up on Tony's counter and danced until they were both laughing so hard that they could barely stand. They slept in the same bed that night, in a purely platonic way, of course. Ziva woke up with a splitting headache, a renewed pain in her leg, and Tony's arm across her chest.

* * *

Night ten brought McGee and Abby to Ziva's apartment and all four of them ate yet another of her amazing dishes.

"I am constantly astounded by the quality of your cooking," Tony said, mouth half full. "Who knew an assassin-"

"Being an assassin has nothing to do with my cooking abilities, Tony," Ziva replied, cutting him off. "They are not mutually exclusive."

"Oh sure," Tony said, ignoring her interruption as McGee and Abby both watched on, "if you at any point had to go undercover as a chef or something it would make perfect sense, but-"

"I had time for more than just my assignments, Tony."

"And you spent it cooking? That is a sad comment on your life, Miss David."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "I was an assassin. Most of the time I was undercover or participating in covert missions or training. A little normalcy was nice."

"Snore," Tony replied, then changed his tone. "What about dating?"

Abby straightened up slightly and McGee just sighed.

"Believe me Tony, I was more than satisfied," she replied casually. "Those late night stake outs got so boring... we did anyone we could to pass the time."

Tony swallowed and looked at her intently. "Don't you mean anything?"

She smiled slightly and tipped her head. "No Tony, I don't."

There was silence. Then a collective shuffling at the table and McGee broke the silence with a change of topic.

Abby just watched the exchange with a smile on her face and mischief in her eyes.

* * *

On night twelve Tony stayed at Ziva's place even though he was completely sober.

"It's late," Ziva had said, "It's fine for you to say."

And after some half hearted objections, he had agreed.

"So I'll take the couch then?"

Ziva raised her eyebrows in amusement. "We've shared a bed before, Tony. It's fine."

He just nodded, but inside his stomach was tumbling over and over and over. "Right, of course."

She just looked more amused at his awkwardness.

In bed, she threatened him with extreme pain if he touched her in any way. Twelve seconds later, he had his hands on her ass, and quick as a flash his hand was twisted behind his back.

He just smiled through the pain. "Worth it."

And although Ziva was trying her hardest to pull off anger, he could have sworn that in the darkness, she smiled too.

* * *

Day thirteen Ziva announced that she was going for a run. Tony laughed out loud, and then realised she was serious.

"You just had surgery, Ziva. Are you insane?"

"I had surgery three weeks ago," she reminded him. "If I were still in Mossad, I'd be back at work by now."

Tony just shook his head. "No. I won't allow it." He stood in front of her door. "You'll have to go through me." And he looked so defiant that Ziva almost took pity on him. Almost.

Ten minutes later she was out on her favourite track with Tony struggling behind her, broken arm clearly hampering his running ability. She was much slower than usual, and it irked her. The pain was bad, but the lack of fitness was worse.

"Ziva!" Tony shouted. "Slow. Down."

"I _am_ slow," she yelled back, irritated.

She ran another two miles before giving into the pain and walking home, Tony by her side panting.

"Crazy chick."

And despite her frustration and pain, Ziva smiled.

* * *

"Back at work tomorrow," Tony pointed out on night fourteen.

Ziva just nodded, chewing her food slowly. Finally, she swallowed. "I thought these two weeks would be hell, but they actually weren't that bad."

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "You made for surprisingly good company, David."

She punched his uninjured arm. "Surprisingly?"

He just gave a kind of half smile and she fought a strange feeling that crossed her.

There had been shift, that was for sure. Everything had changed and been thrown up into the air and landed awkwardly and shaken again that neither were even sure where they stood. They'd carefully avoided the topic of any kind of feelings and while it was easier that way, it was also tiring.

Tony helped Ziva clear away the dishes and then turned to her, and for some reason couldn't concentrate on much else but the fact that they were so close and her hair smelt so good. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and put a hand on the kitchen bench next to her to steady herself. If they'd just leaned in slightly... it wouldn't have taken much. She could feel his breath on her face, and he could see a blush of light red creep across her cheeks.

It was Tony that broke the silence. "Well, I should go," he said, clearing his throat and stepping back.

His voice seemed to shake Ziva back into reality. "Right," she forced out. "Sure. I'll, uh, walk you to your car."

But Tony was already on his way to the door. He threw a hand up without looking back. "No need." His voice must have been almost an octave higher than normal. He noticed and adjusted it. "I mean, it's fine. You rest."

A shout from Ziva stopped him in his tracks. "Tony, wait!"

He froze, and then turned slowly. "Yes?"

"You forgot..." she said, picking up something from the table beside her and walking to him, "... your keys."

"Right." He took them from her. She could have sworn he sounded a little disappointed. He didn't move, and instead just kind of stared at her, a strange conflicted look on his face.

"Something else, Tony?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

He paused for a moment. "No..." He reached for the door. "I mean, yes." He turned back to her. "Wait, no... Yes... Maybe... Ugh!" And then, he ran a hand roughly over his head and pulled her to him. "I just don't like leaving things unfinished," was all he said before his lips were on hers and nothing else mattered.

* * *

_**A/N:** As always, what were your **favourite lines?**_

_How was this chapter? Good? Bad? Awful? Let me know :) Thanks for reading._


End file.
